


My Bloody Valentine

by rybari, WarmaCrewe



Series: Calliope High [1]
Category: Namesake (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, School Dances, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 08:24:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3374537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rybari/pseuds/rybari, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarmaCrewe/pseuds/WarmaCrewe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blood will be spilled, tears will be shed, and Emma will become Youtube famous on this fateful Valentine's Day at Calliope High School.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Bloody Valentine

**Author's Note:**

> This work is going to be in the middle of the Calliope High series. I apologize for this being out of order, but dats how the cookie crumbles. 
> 
> This Namesake High School AU may induce diabetes due to its sappy, fluffy content. You have been warned.

Emma couldn't just stand there waiting any longer. “Warrick, do you want to dance?” she blurted out.

“Okay,” he mumbled, and stiffly took her hand, barely meeting her eyes.

They swayed back and forth robotically, and she felt her heart sink with every word of the sappy love song. Was he going to bother to talk to her? Apparently not.

He was looking down at his shoes again. It would have been funny, except Emma felt like she was going to cry.

 _There is no such thing as fair._ Emma knew that. She learned it the hard way, when her mom left them. After her dad thought she and Elaine had fallen asleep, she would listen to him softly cry. You love someone, and they don't always love you back. That's how the world is.

She wouldn't have imagined before what a relief it was to see somebody tap Warrick on the shoulder. “Hey buddy. Can I cut in?”

It was Tim from IB German – the one subject she didn't share with Warrick. He was an upperclassman, but had always been friendly with Emma.

Warrick glanced at Emma, and then said “Sure,” stepping away immediately. Just in time for the song to change to a slow dance.

She nodded at him and Tim smiled, clasping her by the waist. “You look gorgeous tonight,” he said. Despite herself, her heart shuddered in her chest.

“Thanks. You look nice too,” she replied. It was the polite thing to say, and she was pleased that her voice did not waver. Because she hadn't dressed up for Tim, or anybody else there. Except one person, who didn't care.

Then to her shock she understood why Warrick didn't care. He was dancing with somebody else. A guy.

Lucas was well out of the closet, but she didn't know that he had a thing for Warrick. By the look on his face, he definitely had some strong feelings there. He was beaming. As for Warrick, well, he looked a little confused. Yet surely he would have refused unless...

It all made sense. Warrick was gay.

She had suspected this before, even to the extent that she had asked his sister about it. Selva firmly assured her that Warrick was into girls and brought up an instance where Warrick had pined after their babysitter for years, bawling when he heard that she was engaged. He had been twelve. Sure, but now he was sixteen. People learn a lot about themselves during their teenage years. Emma had been relieved when she heard this story, but now all she felt was bitter cynicism.

She was stupid, so stupid to think she had a chance there. So stupid not to have seen all the signs, how he shrugged off all the other girls' approaches like they didn't exist. Emma remembered how Samantha Jenson had asked her last week if they were dating. When Emma had said they were just friends, Samantha had nodded to one of her girlfriends “See, he's gay. I told you.” She cringed when she thought about the times they had cuddled on her couch, how much that had meant to her, how she had hoped it had meant something to him too. But it didn't, and it never would. The memories of when they had hugged and she longed for him to kiss her turned to acid in her mouth.

“Do you want to get something to drink?” she heard a voice ask. She looked up. Oh, right. Tim. With surprise she noted that the music had changed. She must have danced through at least two songs with him.

“Um, no, that's okay. I think I need some fresh air though by myself. Alone,” she told him. Emma saw his face fall. No. She wasn't going to make someone else feel the same pain she was feeling now.

She leaned in and gave him a hug, “Thanks so much Tim. You don't know how much I needed that dance right now. You're a good friend.” She followed this with a reserved but sincere smile.

To her consolation Tim gave her a rueful grin, “No problem, Ems. I figured you two were probably dating, but since the word isn't out, I thought there was no harm in trying my luck.”

It was too much. Emma gulped and averted her eyes, “We're... we're not.” She was going to break down at any moment, but managed to hold it in. She glanced at Tim. He quickly looked aside with embarrassment, his face coloring.

“Oh, uh. Yeah. Sorry I said anything,” he coughed. “See you in class,” he said, turning around and walking to the punch table.

As Emma's watering eyes followed him, she spied Warrick on the other side of the gym, still talking with Lucas. Who put his arm around his shoulder as they exited the dance floor.

 _Oh god. Oh god no._ The tears were starting, and she hid her face as she ran out into the hallway.

She burst the bus entrance doors open and sucked down a lungful of frigid air. Her jacket was in Wendy's car. Fuck it. She slumped against the wall onto the dirty concrete. This was the worst Valentine's Day of all time. As she cast her eyes down at her fluffy pink dress drops of murky black water hit the fabric, spreading out into dark stains over the satin. Her makeup. Well, she'd sure look the part of a jilted lover in a moment. Why the hell not? In the dim light she saw people making out in the parking lot.

She had carpooled with Wendy in her enormous SUV to spare her dress from her cramped vehicle. How ironic. But Emma still had her purse with her. She could call a cab. Or hitchhike. She didn't care – she was getting out of this torture zone and going home as quickly as possible. Her dad was chaperoning a camping trip for Elaine's Brownie troop – she would have the entire house to cry herself to sleep as loud as she wanted.

“No, I don't drink. And it's a little chilly, I'd like to get back.” She knew that voice.

Emma squinted. By the emergency exit, where lamps had burned out, was Warrick. And someone else.

“No, that's okay. I really don't feel like that... No! Stop. Don't do that, let me go!”

In spite of the dark it was obvious what she was seeing. Before she knew it Emma was striding over to them.

“Hey! He said stop. What part of that wasn't clear, dumbass?” she yelled.

“We're juss havin' a talk, Warrick an me. Whassit to you, pint-sized bish?” Lucas sneered at her, slurring his words.

Somebody's car headlights flared on, shining into their faces. He had Warrick pinned against the wall, the top of his shirt open. Warrick shot her a terrified, pleading expression. He was so skinny that people joked he would snap in half at any moment. Lucas was on the varsity rugby team.

“I'm going to say this once. Let. Him. Go,” Emma growled, approaching them with slow, deliberate steps.

Lucas laughed, spit flying out of his mouth. He did not loosen his grip on Warrick's body. “Or wha? Da fuck issa cunt like you gonna do, you li'l -”

He didn't finish his sentence because Emma's uppercut snapped his jaw shut with a crack. The second punch landed square on the side of his stupid skull. Just like that, Lucas hit the ground with a plop.

Emma glared down at him, chest heaving. She had the urge to keep going, to bash him until his reproductive organs were useless as well as other vital body parts, but her kickboxing training wouldn't let her. Eliminate the threat and end the fight. This fucker was down for the count, and she had more important things to do.

“Emma, oh god. Emma,” she heard Warrick choke with desperation. Emma raised her eyes from Lucas' bloodied face to see Warrick staring at her like she was his own personal savior.

It was automatic. She pulled him into a hug. “Warrick. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” She patted his shoulders and scanned him for wounds.

“No, no. Well, he kissed me. It was gross – he tasted like cigarettes and vodka,” Warrick sticking out his tongue in revulsion. He did up the three undone buttons, shook his head, and to her amazement flashed her a grin. “No tongue though. I would have bitten it off.” Then he pulled a roll of breath mints out of his pocket and chomped on one, showing his teeth and wiggling his eyebrows.

A strangled laugh escaped from her throat, and she covered her mouth, bottom lip quavering. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that asshole did that to you. I should have seen it coming and stayed with you.” Warrick's grin dropped. No wonder after what happened.

Emma squeezed him tightly to her chest. She didn't want to let him go, she wanted to protect him, keep him safe. He wrapped his arms around her and she felt some of the chill disappear from her skin, but still shivered. Warrick bent down and picked up his leather jacket, dusting it off. “Here, take this,” he said softly, draping it over her bare shoulders. She accepted it gratefully, and inspected her fist. A little blood. Emma opened her purse and cleaned it off with hand sanitizer and a kleenex. She ran a finger under her eyes. No mascara. Good. Then she looked up at him.

Warrick was gazing down at her with such a fond expression that she allowed herself to be happy about it, a genuine smile spreading over her face. A meter away Lucas let out a faint moan. “Let's get the hell out of here,” she said.

“Sounds perfect,” Warrick returned. He took her hand in his, but then paused. “Your dress?”

Emma waved at her formerly pristine strapless gown. Black flecks of eye makeup, dirt and a dab of blood. “Screw it. It's uncomfortable anyway. I'm never wearing this disaster again.”

He shrugged and they continued to his motorcycle. Surprisingly, he had locked two helmets to his bike. Emma raised an eyebrow at him.

“I thought, well, those Calliope guys party pretty late and maybe you'd have liked to get a ride,” Warrick said, blushing.

Emma laughed but grabbed her helmet. Well, it wasn't hers exactly, but it might as well have been given how often she used it. “Hey, you ended up being right after all.” She strapped on her headgear and zipped up the jacket. Then she hiked up her dress and jumped on the seat behind him. Emma secured her arms around Warrick as he started the engine and the bike came to life.

Sure it was cold, and the breeze made it colder, but this ride was exactly what she needed. Emma could feel the gruesomeness of the dance slough off her body like slime being carried away by the wind. The air whipped the free strands of her hair around her neck and her ridiculous petticoat billowed out like a parachute. They must have looked pretty spectacular because a couple of cars actually honked at them as they sped down the winding highway.

She leaned into Warrick. This is where she belonged. She didn't want to go home, she wanted to stay here with him on the motorcycle and leave all the pain of tonight behind. Emma wanted it to be yesterday when she had been so excited that maybe something would happen. She forced herself to stay in the moment. _Be glad you're with him now_.

Of course it couldn't last forever. Her house wasn't even that far from school. Far too soon, they were there. With reluctance Emma gave back her helmet and walked slowly up her driveway. To her dark empty house with a pint of chocolate ice cream in the freezer. At her front door she turned to face him. Warrick looked as conflicted as she did. Maybe he was going to finally admit to her now that he was gay. But he took her hands in his and pressed them earnestly.

“Emma. Thank you so much. You really saved me – I don't want to think about what would have happened if you hadn't been there.”

She told herself to stop, to just stop, but she pulled their hands to her heart. “Warrick, you mean so much to me. I would do it a hundred times over.”

He stared forlornly at their intertwined fingers, “Well, but you left your date. To help me. I'm sorry about that.”

 _What?_ “Warrick, what are you talking about?”

“Tim? You know, the good looking senior you danced with for three songs? Who you hugged tonight? The guy who has been staring at you from across the cafeteria for several weeks?” he said, his voice unsteady and upset. He released her hands.

This couldn't be real. Emma blinked. “Warrick, Tim wasn't my date.”

“Well, you both did a good job acting like one.” He sighed, “Emma you don't have to spare my feelings okay? I get it.”

“Spare your feelings?!” Emma said, raising her voice. “Warrick, aren't you gay? Didn't you dance with and hold that sleezeball's hand before it went to hell? Didn't you ignore me and not even speak when we danced for a grand total of one minute?”

“Because I asked you out and you said no!”

“What? When did you ask me out?!” Emma's head was spinning and she was shouting, but she couldn't contain herself.

“Are you seriously asking me that? Only a few days ago when I asked if you wanted to go to the dance together and you said you had other plans,” Warrick said in a heated tone. His hands were now balled up into trembling fists at his side.

Oh. The dress. The useless, horrible dress.

“Your bike... my gown would have...” she looked down at herself. Now there were grease marks all over the hem and on her stockings.

“You know Selva has a car? Which she pretty much never uses since she's been seeing Alice. Or yours, I mean, I'm not that clueless.” He was on the verge of sobbing. “But you didn't even - you just said 'Oh no thanks, Warrick, I've got other plans.' That's _exactly_ what you said.”

“You asked... I thought you meant if I wanted a ride,” Emma muttered in a daze.

“No! No that's not what I meant at all,” he said, his voice weary. Then his expression changed to one of annoyance as he furrowed his brow. “And I'm not _gay_. What the heck Emma? I think I would have told you that by now. You're closer to me than anyone else.” He paused and met her eyes. “Wait - you really didn't, you didn't realize, after all this time...?”

Emma was speechless, so she did the only thing she could. She put her hands around the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss.

Then he kissed her back, he was really kissing her back, this was actually happening. But he broke away, staring at her dumbfounded. “I don't understand, is this, do you -”

She finally found her words, “Yes. Yes, Warrick. _You._ It's always been you,” she said, standing on her toes to kiss him again. He gasped and wrapped his arms around her.

Emma backed them into the front door and fumbled for the handle. Unlocked! Her lack of brain cells for the last few days was finally coming in handy. She grabbed his collar and drew him into the living room, deftly kicking the door shut behind them. The curtains were half open, letting in just enough moonlight to see by. Emma took off his jacket and folded it neatly on the back of a chair.

Then she lost all restraint whatsoever and jumped on him.

********************************

She woke up because she was hungry and dreaming of doughnuts. And also because she was exceeding warm. What other dreams had come to her in the evening? Emma twisted around in her bedsheets and realized they hadn't been dreams at all.

Warrick was there, sleeping soundly beside her. The wave of emotions she rode on last night hit her full force all over again.

She pulled up the sheet and saw to her comfort that she was more or less clothed – panties and a t-shirt. Emma felt the sting of her strapless bra digging into into her sides, an unfortunate relic of her gown. Such evil undergarments were not meant for overnight wear. Slowly, so as not to wake him, she slid out from under the covers, carefully watching Warrick's face. He didn't move. Good. Then she quietly undid her bra, sagging with satisfaction as she let it drop to the floor.

Emma made straight for the kitchen, her stomach overriding any concerns about being seen walking around half-dressed. She immediately switched on the electric kettle and then was startled to see that the microwave's display read 12:39pm. Whoa. That certainly explained her hunger. She would have liked to wait for Warrick to wake up before eating, but surely a banana wouldn't hurt.

Not fifteen later she was stirring the thickening eggs for an enormous cheese omelette when she felt gentle arms enfold her.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

An overwhelming surge of happiness filled Emma's chest. She turned around and returned his embrace, rubbing her nose into the bare part of his chest. He cupped her face and drew her into a tender kiss.

Emma smiled dreamily, “Good afternoon.”

“Is that what it is?” he asked, and his eyes widened as he looked at the clock. “Good lord. No wonder I'm ravenous.”

Emma waved the spatula, which she was still holding in her left hand. “Let's fix that.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Warrick said. Emma attempted to get back to her eggs, but he made no motion to let her go. She giggled and squirmed back and forth.

“Oh. Do you mean you need to move? That's a problem,” he grinned.

Emma shook her spatula at his nose, which he dodged. “You can stay, but I am going to need to look after the pan.”

“I can do that.” He kissed her forehead and relaxed his arms just enough for Emma to pivot and return to cooking. But he still held her, resting his chin on her shoulder as she she smoothed the eggs over.

“Did you sleep well?” Emma asked, lifting the edges of the omelette.

“You have no idea how well.” Warrick kissed her ear.

Another kiss on her neck, and with perfect timing Emma's stomach growled inappropriately. “Hmm. Toast,” Warrick said, letting her go to look through the breadbox.

It was the best breakfast ever, and not only because food tastes fantastic when one has a strong appetite. Emma and Warrick sat together as close as humanly possible, practically glued to the other's side. Even their legs were entangled under the kitchen table. In between bites of toast and eggs they nuzzled and held hands, even if it interfered with their forks. The food was cold by the time they were finished, but it didn't matter at all.

Soon after they were lying beside each other on the sofa, having drawn the living room curtains at last. He had ducked when he saw Emma's neighbor walking his dog, despite the fact that Warrick in his boxers and undershirt wasn't too shocking. Emma had burst out laughing over it. Everything was hilarious and beautiful and wonderful. “I am perfectly happy,” she said.

He traced circles on her arm, “Me too. I feel like I could fly.”

Emma was just about to say something about anything being possible today when she heard several loud beeps.

“My phone,” she said lazily. Then she sat up with a start, causing Warrick to nearly roll off the couch. “Wendy! She probably wants to know what happened to me last night.” Emma got up to check her messages.

“They probably worked it out,” said Warrick, following her to the coat rack where she was rummaging through her purse. Emma gasped. “What's wrong?” said Warrick, looking over her shoulder.

“58 missed calls! What on Earth?!” said Emma with alarm, unlocking her phone. She played the first voicemail and immediately pulled the phone away from her ear as Selva's yelling filled the room.

“ **OH MY GOD EMMA CHECK YOUR MESSAGES FOR CHRIST'S SAKE! YOU ARE FAMOUS!!!** ”

Warrick looked quizzically at her, “Famous?” Emma opened her messages and saw links from several of her friends to the same Youtube video.

“I think we'd better sit down,” she said, leading him back to the sofa.

********************************

The video started off blurry with some unclear shouting. Then Emma strode into view and the picture came into focus.

“ _We're juss havin' a talk, Warrick an me. Whassit to you, pint-sized bish?_ ” Lucas hollered.

“Turn on the lights!” somebody off-camera said, and a car's headlights flicked on, illuminating Lucas restraining Warrick's struggling body against a wall. Warrick appeared completely petrified and overpowered.

“Is that Emma Crewe?” someone asked. “Shut the hell up Tony!” a different voice hissed.

“ _I'm going to say this once. Let. Him. Go,_ ” said Emma menacingly. On video in her pink frothy dress she looked so tiny compared to Lucas that it was both comical and disturbing.

“She's gonna get trashed! We need to do something Len – oh holy shit!” the same off-camera voice yelled as Emma took down Lucas so gracefully that she could have been a prizefighter at the IBF championship.

“Oh my god! What the fuck?! Len are you getting this??” exclaimed Tony.

“Dude. Look at him. He's gone,” said Len's voice. The video focused on Lucas's bloody figure. Several people were talking all at once, and suddenly the camera zoomed into Emma and Warrick. They were clutching each other. Emma caressed Warrick's face and he stared back at her with an expression of pure adoration. Their mouthed words didn't make it over the sound of the off-camera clamor, but the image of Warrick clasping Emma's hand and leaving the picture did.

“This is going on fucking Youtube,” Tony said as the video cut off.

******************************

Number of Views: 281,239.

Shocked, Emma opened the comments section.

“ _Like if you got here from reddit!_ ”

“ _lol that girl is a BEAST”_

“ _I go to class with her!! Respect Callipe High! This is what happens when you mess with a girl's boyfriend!_ ”

“ _That ***hole had it coming. He should go to jail”_

And the top comment:

“ _Emma Crewe is my hero._ ”

followed by:

“ _did you see them at the end though. I want someone to love me like that :-)_ ”

****************************

Emma switched her phone off, “I can't believe they put that up.” She searched Warrick's face with concern. “Are you okay?”

Warrick closed his eyes and held her to him. “I'm okay. Somehow, I don't feel that upset about what happened? More angry, but I didn't really get hurt. And you were there. That made all the difference.”

“They still shouldn't have posted the video – you don't need to relive that. I'll ask them to take it down.”

“No, don't do it for me. Actually, I kind of like it for everyone to see how brave you are.” To her surprise, he chuckled. “Also as a reminder of what a fool I am. It's so funny to see how bad I was at covering it up.”

“Covering what up?” she asked, confused.

“How much I love you,” he said, looking into her eyes.

Her heart was already full, but now it was overflowing. Anything really was possible.

“Warrick, I love you too.”

Then they were laughing, kissing idiots, half-crying with bewilderment and joy.

************************************

Warrick was pleased that his motor control was good enough that he was able to ride back to his place, given that he had often been stumbling and weak at the knees that afternoon. He really hadn't wanted to go, but his clothes from last night were gross, and he had absentmindedly left his cell phone at home. Warrick wasn't nearly as social as Emma, but he probably had some messages of his own to answer, especially from Selva. He would grab a few things and be out of his flat in ten minutes, just in time to get back to Emma's before it got dark. So that he could stay there again tonight.

He felt elated. _I slept with Emma._ Of course they hadn't slept together in the other meaning of the word. They kept most of their clothes on and their hands away from sensitive areas. Still, spooning with her and kissing until they fell asleep was the happiest he had ever been in his entire life. And he got to do it again! He sprinted up the stairs to his apartment and grappled overlong with the keys before he managed to open the door. Then Warrick stopped short as he saw who was waiting for him.

Naturally, Selva was there lounging on the couch, grinning at him like a cat that had just seen a saucer of cream. “Well hello. Welcome home.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. “I am just here to get some things and go, okay? Interrogation later,” he said evenly. Warrick exhaled and opened his eyes.

His sister got up, walked over and unexpectedly hugged him. She kissed his cheek affectionately. “Warrick, I'm not here to tease you. I'm just want to tell you that I'm so happy for you. I've been waiting for you and Emma to start dating for a long time.”

There was no doubting her sincerity. Warrick was touched, but also astonished. “How did you know that we're together now?”

Selva's eyes softened. “Warrick, you're my twin,” she said, and put her hand over her heart, “I know.” Then she tapped his chest. “Now, get back to her.”

He smiled. “Will do,” he said, heading to his room. Warrick picked up his backpack. If he took it with him, then it would look more like they were studying when Mr. Crewe got home tomorrow evening. _Ha ha. “Studying,”_ he thought mischievously as he grabbed a clean pair of underwear.

“But I do expect all the details later! And don't forget to use protection!” he heard Selva call.

Warrick rolled his eyes. Sisters.

 

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: “Namesake” is the copyright of Isabelle Melançon and Megan Lavey-Heaton. This story/art is licensed under the Creative Commons as a attribution, non-commerical work. No profit is being made off this piece.


End file.
